Friday, 13
by Kirishtu
Summary: Dib awakes to find his kitchen under siege by an inept Irken. Zim just wants to make a cake. This has nothing to do with Being Human. ZADR.


Dib awoke that morning knowing something was wrong. He opened his eyes, and let his brain orient itself, which allowed him to remember where he was. His bedroom. Well, their bedroom, really, but he was the sole occupant right now. That really didn't bother him. A late night of work usually meant a late morning start, so Dib had gotten used to waking up alone. But he'd never woken up with a feeling of wrong before. Well. Lately. He used to wake up all the time with the feeling of wrong, like he was being watched. Which he probably had been, not that the watcher would ever admit to it.

Dib pushed himself up and reached for his glasses. The fuzzy images of the room became clear, but nothing looked out of place. He pulled back the blankets and looked at his naked body, but everything was there, too. Not even one little hair had been plucked. So he looked around the room, cocking his head to the side.

Then he heard it. A soft curse from the direction of the hall.

Dib considered pretending to be asleep and waiting for Zim to do whatever it was he was planning to do, but common sense made him get up. He pulled on his jeans, zipped and buttoned them, ran his fingers through his hair, and grabbed a black button down t-shirt on his way out the door. Zim wasn't in the hall. Dib was tempted to call out to him, but that wouldn't be as fun as finding out what the Irken was up to without warning. Besides, if Zim was doing something he didn't want Dib to know about, warning him would give Zim time to hide evidence.

Another curse came from the kitchen. Dib padded quietly toward that room, then peeked around the corner. His lips split into a wide grin, and he leaned against the doorway, arms folding over his chest.

Zim stood at the kitchen's island counter, staring at an open book like it was going to suddenly come alive and eat him. His pale green skin was covered in what looked like flour or confectioner's sugar - or both - and his normally black hair was now an iron grey. His crimson eyes were narrowed, and there was this streak of white between them that made him look like he'd tried rubbing the bridge of his nose a few dozen times. His clothes were also covered in white powder. Beside the book was a mixing bowl, a spoon, a whisk, an open container of butter, eggs, milk, sugar, and a few other things Dib hadn't known his cupboards possessed.

"Zim." Dib said, letting his deep voice roll through the room like thunder.

To his surprise, Zim jumped about three feet in the air and whirled to face him, holding his arms out to his sides like that was going to stop Dib from seeing what was behind him. Zim recovered enough to glower at Dib. The stripe of white between his eyes only made him look like an irritated kitten. "You're up." Zim glanced at the microwave clock. "You're not supposed to be up."

"What, I can't change my routine without your approval first?"

Zim's expression was all Dib needed.

Dib pushed away from the wall. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Zim said, shifting to try and block Dib from getting any closer.

Dib only raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like "nothing" to me."

Zim gave him another glower. "Why are you so damn curious?"

"Because it's my kitchen and my food items you're abusing? Or maybe it's because my mate is trying to be secretive and quiet and that is something he definitely doesn't do?"

Now Zim started to fidget. He never fidgeted. Dib raised his eyebrow, and leaned against the counter, waiting. Eventually Zim would break. Dib just had to be patient, and over the years, he'd become very patient indeed. Ever since they had admitted to each other one night (there was a possibility that Dib had been very, very drunk) that there was a mutual attraction to one another, Dib had learned that patience was a key thing when dealing with the Irken. Zim had gained a few inches in height, and gained a few extra limbs due to evolution and his own experimentation, but he was still the same old Zim. He didn't like revealing his plans, and he certainly didn't like it when Dib gave him the patient look.

"It's Friday the Thirteenth." Zim said at last.

"And why does that matter?"

"It's one of our holidays."

"Whose holidays?"

"Gaz and me." Zim looked at Dib and dared him to say something.

Dib just raised his eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. Then he leaned forward and ran his tongue over Zim's nose. Zim flinched and jerked back, swatting at Dib's face. Dib grinned. "So you're cooking?"

"Of course I'm cooking, asshat. Why the hell did you have to lick me?" Zim groused, rubbing his nose and smearing more confectioner's sugar across his skin.

"Because you're covered in sugar." Dib replied. "What are you trying to make?"

"Stuff." Zim replied, evasive. He reached for the cookbook but Dib was faster. The human grabbed the book and raised it over Zim's head, frowning as he studied the flour and sugar smeared pages. "Dib!"

Dib held the book higher, smirking as Zim jumped to try and retrieve the book. Dib put the book down on the island counter before Zim could decide to kick him the shin. Or the balls, which was Zim's preferred place to kick. "Doesn't look that difficult. You're just trying to make a cake in the shape of Freddy Krueger's face."

Zim glowered at him, but the glower had no bite behind it. Dib watched that stubborn gleam entering the Irken's eyes. At that point, Dib knew there would be no stopping Zim in whatever plan he had, so Dib knew that Zim was going to demand his help sooner or later. Zim looked at Dib almost sideways, then returned his attention to the cookbook and the bowl of ingredients sitting on the counter.

"Glare any harder and you'll curdle the milk." Dib said.

Zim canted his head to the side. "Really?"

Dib smirked. "No, not really."

Zim glowered at him again. "Quit making fun of me and help me."

Dib fought to keep from grinning and leaned over Zim to study the cookbook. He reached for the flour, the eggs, and the whisk. He watched Zim watch him, then asked, "How long have you been at this?"

Zim looked at the trash can. "Most of the morning. None of the cakes came out right." He pointedly looked at the mess on the counter. "You know how to cook?"

"Yeah. Who do you think makes you dinner all the time?"

"I always thought it was store-bought and heated in the microwave."

"Asshole." Dib grabbed the bowl and several measuring cups. "Those cakes didn't turn out right because you didn't measure anything right."

"How can I measure anything when I don't know what it is?" Zim retorted.

Dib tapped the page, smearing egg yolk over the text. "It says it right here."

Zim looked at where he was pointing. He looked at Dib with an expression of contempt on his face. "Your brain must be suffocating. That clearly isn't a measurement. It's another ingredient. See?"

"It says two cups of flour." Dib said, picking up the whisk and setting it into the bowl.

"Not that part. This one. One tebispah. What the fuck is a tebispah? I swear, you humans have no respect for simple measurements." Zim griped, reaching for the small bottle of vanilla extract.

"It's tablespoon." Dib said in a monotone, frowning as he whisked the mixture of eggs, flour, and now water to a gelatinous consistency. "Tablespoon, not tebispah."

"Then why the fuck didn't they write that?" Zim asked, picking up the tablespoon when Dib pointed it out.

"And give up the chance to hear you complain about our insufficient intelligence?" Db asked, smirking. His smirk evolved into a grin when Zim glowered at him. Then he wasn't grinning anymore when Zim picked up a handful of confectioner's sugar and tossed it in his face.

Zim took the opportunity to skitter around to the other side of the island, pulling a fresh baking pan from a pile he'd cleaned earlier after his attempts at baking had failed. He gave Dib a grin of his own and quickly brought the pan up to shield himself as Dib flicked a glob of batter at him. "Don't waste it!" Zim protested.

"Why?" Dib asked. "You wasted more than this in all your earlier attempts. Why didn't you just ask me to help you?" He took the baking pan from Zim and greased it before he started smearing batter into the dish.

"Because I didn't want you to know." Zim said simply.

"Know what? That you were baking or you were making a to talk disaster of our kitchen?"

"Both." Zim answered with complete honesty. Dib sighed deeply. Zim tilted his head. "Besides, you were sleeping," Zim continued, "and I know how you are when you're woken up before you're ready."

"Yeah, and I bet your ass is glad you didn't wake me up."

"My ass hasn't fully recovered from last night, thanks. What were you trying to do? Put your child in me?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

Zim's eyes grew large. "You're not serious."

Dib lifted the whisk to his mouth and licked the sweet batter off the wires. "Do I look like I'm serious? We both know you getting pregnant is impossible. Besides that, do you really think we're ready for kids? It's bad enough we have to babysit for Gaz every other weekend."

"I thought you liked Fern."

"I _do_ like Fern. She's my niece. I have to like her. But she's two, Zim." Dib said, sounding almost aggrieved. "Even you're happy when she goes back home to mommy. Imagine having her stay for eighteen plus years."

Zim imagined it. Paled. Quickly looked around the already messy kitchen. Whatever he was imagining was putting the most interesting expressions on his face, so Dib knew he wouldn't have to worry about having kids for a long, long time yet. Zim finally looked back at Dib. "Eighteen years? Really?"

"Really. And you will never ever sleep during those eighteen years, or have sex, or even be able to go to the bathroom alone."

Zim paled even more. "Dib?"

"Yes, Zim?"

"I don't want kids."

Dib bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He picked up a spatula and made sure every inch of the batter was spread out evenly. Then he moved to put it in the oven, turning to find Zim standing behind him with an odd gleam in his eye. Dib shifted so his ass wasn't directly against the hot stove, but noticed Zim was moving with him, as if to block off any escape. "What are you doing?"

As if in answer, Zim reached to grip Dib's biceps and stood on his tip-toes, all to swipe his tongue over Dib's lips. Before he could retreat, Dib grabbed hold of Zim's hips and pulled him close, refusing to let to even when Zim made that adorable noise of protest neither of them would ever admit was adorable. "Let go." Zim said, practically making the word an order.

"No. You started it." Dib flicked his tongue out. He could taste confectioner's sugar on his lips. It was in that moment Dib realized that Zim had been using the confectioner's sugar as a snack type substance, rather than using it as part of the actual baking. Dib looked at the small bag of sugar and poked the white powder with his finger. He swirled it around and pulled it out. He watched Zim's eyes go from his lips to his finger. "You like that, huh?"

Zim slashed him a glare. "It's just sugar."

"Oh really?" Dib smiled, long and lazy. He moved to touch his finger to Zim's lips. He didn't say anything, didn't do more than rest his finger against Zim's lips and wait. He didn't have to wait too much longer.

Zim flicked his tongue out against Dib's finger, taking the layer of sugar off the pad before he took his tongue back into his mouth. Then Dib leaned forward, and kissed Zim lightly, slowly running his tongue over Zim's lips before forcing his tongue inside the Irken's mouth. Zim reached to wrap his arms around Dib's neck, deepening the kiss. Dib slid his hands down Zim's waist, to his thighs, pulling him up off the floor so Zim could hook his ankles together behind Dib's back. His ass rested lightly against Dib's crotch, putting weight and heat against Dib's growing erection. Zim shifted on purpose, earning a groan from Dib.

"I really hate you right now," Dib whispered, kissing Zim again and again.

"You're the one who started this." Zim hissed back, panting out the words in between kisses.

"You want me to finish it?"

"You want to walk around with swollen balls?"

"Okay. I concede. That was a stupid question."

Zim gave him an arch look as if to say "Duh", but thankfully, the Irken decided to not press any further. Instead, he kissed Dib, running his tongue along Dib's lips to catch every speck of the powdery sugar. Dib only groaned and pulled Zim tighter against him, before he started making his way out of the kitchen, grabbing the bag of confectioner's sugar on his way out.

Somehow they made it to the bedroom, after leaving a trail of smeared sugar and flour on the floor and walls of the hallway. Even before they reached the bed, the floor was strewn with white powdered clothes, and when Dib dropped Zim on the bed, a cloud of white ballooned up from the black strands of the wig the Irken was wearing, and Dib was sure there'd be a white patch on the pillows. When they were finished, they'd have to do laundry, or else they'd get ants. They'd have to clean the hall and kitchen too, but right now, those thought paled in comparison to the naked Irken beneath him.

Dib dipped his hand in the powdered sugar and dribbled a little on Zim's chest, making a line from his sternum to his crotch. Before Zim could start protesting, Dib set his tongue on the beginning of the white line and slowly licked his way down to the end, felling Zim's body twitch beneath him with each pass of his tongue. When he reached Zim's crotch, it only took a few minutes of coaxing with his tongue to draw Zim's cock out if its sheath. That's when Dib felt fingers curl in his hair and tug. Zim was very sensitive there, Dib had learned, but whether that was because Itkens had no need to use their genitalia or because it was always trapped inside their bodies Dib didn't know. So Dib knew that he had to be extremely careful from this point forward.

In actuality, it had only been a few years since the two of them had actually started having sex on a regular basis. They'd been living together since Dib had managed to land a job as an investigator for unusual crimes - which meant he went after the paranormal and whatever else was deemed unexplainable. Zim had joined him after Gaz, with whom Zim had been living at the time, had gone missing under his watch. During that time and a bit after, they'd danced around the forming feelings and finally gave up on their pride and told each other how they felt. Alcohol might've been involved, at least on Dib's part, because he'd been drinking heavily after they'd found Gaz and learned of the "condition" she'd been in. A condition that had resulted in Fern.

"Ah, ow." Zim whispered, shifting his hips, "that hurt."

Dib pulled back from the head of Zim's cock. "Sorry." He went back to sucking, and heard Zim give a soft sound that neither of them would ever admit to hearing.

It didn't take long for Zim to come, especially when Dib was doing something amazing with just his tongue. Dib pulled back and spat the Irken's seed into his hand. He never could get used to the strange taste of Zim's come - it was too sour, and nothing Dib thought of could change the taste. At least he'd gotten over the reflex to gag the moment it touched his tongue.

"Dib?" Zim panted softly, shifting to spread his legs at Dib's insistence.

"Yeah?"

"Lay on your back."

"What?" Dib asked, surprised since his fingers had already breached Zim's body and had started preparing him for the rest if the act.

"On. Your. Back. _Now_."

"Okay, okay, Christ on a cracker." Dib shifted to arrange himself on his back, watching Zim settle between his legs. It didn't take long for Dib to see what Zim was planning. The Irken took a handful of the confectioner's sugar and slowly let it drain from his hand onto Dib's erection. Once the sugar was gone from his hand, Zim licked his palm and fingers much like a cat would lick its paw, before he shifted to take the head of Dib's cock into his mouth.

Dib groaned, a deep rumbling sound, and curled his fingers in Zim's hair. It was rare for Zim to give head, but damn, was he good at it! He encouraged Dib to move his hips, so he did, thrusting slowly into Zim's mouth. Dib propped his head up with his other arm so he could watch Zim, and saw those piercing crimson eyes looking right back at him each time Zim moved his head up only to go back down. He only stopped when the sugar was gone, which may or may not have coincided with the fact Dib was beginning to come.

Then Zim straddled Dib's hips, pressing his hole against the head of Dib's cock. Dib took hold of Zim's hips then, steadying him. "You're sure you want to do it this way?" Dib asked. Usually Zim preferred taking it on his back or knees. It was unusual for him to want to ride, or try any new position.

Zim's cheeks darkened. "I thought it'd be nice for a change."

"You watched porn, didn't you?" Dib asked with a smile, knowing the glare was coming even as he was pushing into Zim's hole as Zim pushed his hips down.

Sure enough, the glare came, just as Dib was fully seated inside Zim's passage. "Is there something wrong with that?" His cheeks darkened even more. "Gaz said it would be educational."

"Okay, I don't want to know why Gaz told you to watch porn." Dib said, beginning to move.

"Because she asked me about our sex life."

"So you told her?" Dib said, stuttering in the rhythm and making Zin whimper.

"Was I not supposed to?"

Dib just stared at Zim for a while. Then he started moving, a little harder than before. "What we do in bed is private. Between you and me." He thrust harder, not allowing Zim to speak or move on his own. He saw those crimson eyes spark before they closed tightly, as Zim's breathing began to increase. "So I'd like it if you didn't speak of this to my sister."

Zim merely made a mewing noise that Dib took for agreement. They kept moving like that, until Zim's hole spasmed just a bit. That was when Dib rolled them, putting Zim on his back and folding him in half so he could deepen the thrusts and move just a little harder with the added leverage. Dib began to pant, and felt his own body starting to prepare itself for release. He kept his eyes open, staring down at Zim, and somehow Zim managed to open his eyes and stare back. Dib dipped his head and kissed Zim lightly, twining their fingers together as Zim's body started to tighten to the point it was squeezing Dib's cock in a vice-like grip.

Then Zim came with a huge gasp of air, and his vice-like passage became even tighter, squeezing Dib to the point of pain. Dib felt Zim's come splash against his abdomen in hot bluish lines, then came himself with an animalistic growl, thrusting deep inside Zim as he came.

It was a matter of minutes before Zim relaxed enough to let Dib slide his softening cock from his body. Dib collapsed beside Zim, panting harshly. Zim's breathing wasn't much better, and his eyes had closed again. He was limp, relaxed, and sighed when Dib wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Feel good?" Dib asked once his breathing had calmed.

"Mmh." Zim replied, letting out a soft purr. Dib laughed in response.

It seemed an eternity later before Zim's eyes opened, his expression growing concerned. Dib watched him, growing concerned himself. "What is it?"

Zim took a deep breath. Then he said, "Do you smell that?"

Dib took a deep breath. Frowned. Took another. He looked at Zim, alarmed. Zim had the same expression.

"The cake!"

- end -


End file.
